


The Talk of the Party

by Ella_Blackheart



Series: The Holy Blood. [4]
Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Romance, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 22:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14757317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ella_Blackheart/pseuds/Ella_Blackheart
Summary: Lenna's misadventures at a foreign party.





	The Talk of the Party

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS MENTIONS OF INCEST, IF IT BOTHERS YOU PLEASE DON'T READ
> 
> My French is still at a very basic level, so I apologize in advance for any mistake on that regard.

 

* * *  
  
  
It happened only a month before you left for Aurora, remember?  
  
Emperor Augustin and Empress Mireille of Finisterre celebrated their 'anniversaire du marriage'. I don't recall the exact number of years, but -given the grandiosity of the festivities, and the ages of their children- they must have been together for over three decades, at least. You asked me to be your escort because you knew the enormous admiration I felt for the Finisterran monarchs, and how they had managed to stay with each other despite... well... a circumstantial inconvenience very similar to our own.  
  
To say I had high expectations about the party would have been the understatement of the decade. Ever since the day you invited me to go with you, I served no other purpose than to make this my international debut. The most expensive dress, the perfect hairdo with exotic flowers woven through my caramel colored locks, everything -even my shoes- had been carefully chosen for the occasion. I was wearing the highest of heels, ready to tower over the crowd like a goddess. It was time for the world to know the brightest star in the whole universe, the most beautiful flower in Bowerstone Castle's gardens, the most precious jewel in the crown of Albion... That would be me, of course, Princess Lenna.   
  
Some part of me believed that, if I could charm the Finisterran court, the emperors may become some sort of advocates to our relationship. And I could finally convince you that there was nothing wrong with us being together.  
  
I was also kind of happy for you. It was a good thing you had done yourself the favor of inviting me. You were so not skilled in the social arts, and it would have been a shame to see you sulking in a corner all by yourself. Nevertheless, I must admit it pissed me off a lot when you spurned the outfit I had personally selected for you, and decided to wear your usual. Didn't you know it was a royal affair we were attending? How could you be so careless about your image -and, by association, mine too-?  
  
"So, and listen to me because this is very important..." I asked, trying to polish some last minute details on our way to the party, "...When Emperor Augustin comes to greet me, should I make the slightest of curtsies and then offer my hand to be kissed, or should I only offer my hand right away?"  
  
You simply shrugged, and kept on looking out the carriage's window. Your big dark eyes lost in the Finisterran landscape, it was as if you wanted to take off running into those green fields, never to come back. You were always the same whenever we were away from Albion, where I knew you felt trapped like in a prison.  
  
"This is it, you know? My moment to shine." I carried on, desperate to get your gorgeous eyes back on me, and to chase the dreams of escaping away from your mind. "I hope you don't ruin it with your social ineptitude!"  
  
You chuckled, not even half-upset about my insult. I guess you were already used to them. The soft golden light of the afternoon illuminated your face through the window, bringing out the perfection of your cheekbones -high and sharp, just like our father’s- and casting a slight golden halo around your midnight black hair. You were so handsome in your own tragical way, that it frightened me. What if someone else realized just how wonderful you were? What if they took you away from me?  
  
"Sometimes I wonder how a beautiful girl, like me, could have a brother as ugly as you?"I extended my foot, and gave you a little kick.  "You are ugly, and you're mean, Logan! You haven't even bothered to compliment my new shoes."  
  
"Are you sure those heels are a good idea for a garden party?" You looked down at my feet and tilted your head. That was certainly not the answer I was looking for. "They may sink in the grass."  
  
"They are perfect, and they will not sink!" I defended myself, even though I was already starting to question my choice of... everything. But we had already crossed the palace's gates, it was far too late to turn around the carriage and go change. "But what would you know about fashion?!"  
  
  
The carriage came to a halt, and I stormed out without giving you another look. I wanted nothing more than for you to come running after me, to show me I was important. But instead, you took your time and followed a few steps behind me.   
  
The Palace of Arsay, home of the Finisterran royal family smelled like perfume, it was even bigger and more majestic than I remembered. The walls were literally covered in gold, and the marble of the floors was so white and well polished, it gave the impression I was walking on the surface of a pearl. It made our Bowerstone Castle look like a country side lodge in comparison. And this was only the foyer!  
  
I had very faint memories of the last time I was here -I must have been around three at the time- The only thing I remember is just how impressed I was by this grand palace. Well, that had been a little over sixteen years ago, and now it was time for them to be dazzled by me.  
  
I straightened myself, and made my way towards the large set of doors where a servant was already waiting for us. I must admit I was expecting a bigger welcome, didn't they know we were royalty? Perhaps if we had brought a bigger entourage -some trumpets, maybe- to announce our arrival...  But you always had to be so austere and boring.  
  
Well, that was about to change. The moment I walked through that door, all eyes would be on me, I was going to amaze them all with my beauty and elegance, and the Finisterran would have no choice but to surrender to the phenomenal creature that was me, the princess of Albion.   
  
My illusions were cut short by an all too uptight servant, who had the nerve to stand right in front of me as I was just about to open the door.  
  
"Excusez-moi, madmoiselle, est-ce que vous pouvez me montrer votre invitation, s'il vous plaît ?" I could not understand a word of Finisterran, but his tone was that of someone who just caught a peasant girl trying to sneak in.   
  
"I am the princess of Albion!" I stated firmply, and tried to force my way past him. "Let me in, now!"  
  
"Je vous demande pardon, madmoiselle." He spoke calmly, but didn't move an inch. "Je ne comprends pas."  
  
"What?" I furrowed my brow, unable to understand what this servant's problem was. Why couldn't he just let me in?  
  
"Oh! Votre majesté!" His expression changed the minute you approached, he opened the door, trying to keep me at bay, while at the same time extending his arm as an invitation for you to go in. "C'est un plaisir de vous retrouver."  
  
"Excusez-moi." You shook your head and dragged me away from him. "C'est ma petite soeur..."  
  
"Je vous demande pardon, votre majesté" He looked down, and I could smell the salty scent of embarrassment on him.  
  
"The Emperor will hear about this!" Was all I managed to say to him before you pulled me into the garden.  
  
Another one of those pesky servants announced us. More likely he announced you, because the only words I could understand of what he said were your name, Logan, and that or our kingdom, Albion.  
  
My frustration and disappointment only grew bigger when, instead of the grand ovation I was expecting, the massive crowd of people gathered in the garden gave you only the slightest of vows before returning to their conversations. They looked at you for about two and a half seconds, and they did not look at me at all.  
  
The garden itself was the most grandiose thing I had ever seen in my whole life. My nostrils were filled with the intoxicating scent of all kinds of flowers, some of which I had never smelled before. There was a magnificent fountain right in the middle of it. Even if it was over half a mile away from where we stood, it was absolutely impossible to miss. It must have been as big as Bower Lake, with life sized sculptures of sirens and sea nymphs, all gathered around the figure of a man as big as the giant from my nightmares, all of them covered in gold, and adorned with all sorts of gemstones. I was both amazed and terrified.  
  
"Logan! You're finally here!" The cheerful voice of prince Philippe took me out of my trance. He came towards you, with a huge smile on his face. "My... how do you say?... Ah, yes... my brother from another mother."  
  
  
He greeted you with the most friendly of hugs and, of course, you answered by patting him on the back with your usual awkwardness. But he didn't seem to mind. He was genuinely happy to see you.   
  
I didn't even know you could have friends!  
  
"Oh, and you brought your little sister!" He turned to look at me. The unruly locks of strawberry blond hair, that flowed around his ever-cheerful face, made him look youthful and joyous. He was your exact opposite! He gave me a kiss on each cheek and then said with a forced smile. "But you have grown so much! I remember the lats time you were here. You stood in the middle of the ballroom and said at the top of your lungs 'Mom, this castle is bigger than all of Bowerstone!'. I had never laughed so hard in all my life."  
  
I frowned. Of all the things he could have said about me, he had to bring up the most embarrassing of my childhood moments. I wondered if he had done it on purpose. After what happened months ago, when you and I came to Finisterre on a secret vacation -the episode we don't talk about-, Philippe and I were not exactly in the best of terms.  
  
  
"Oh, Logan, my father really wants to have a word with you." He said, and then looked at me once more. "I'm sorry I have to steal him away from you, but this is boring grown-up talk. Why don't you go and help yourself to the desserts, Lana?"  
  
He took you away from me before I could tell him my name was actually Lenna.  
  
You gave me an apologetic smile, and disappeared into the crowd. I tried to follow you, but my heels kept on sinking into the grass -wonderful, dear, you were right!-, and before I knew, I was lost among a bunch of people speaking loudly in a language I couldn't understand.  
  
I had never felt so lonely in my entire life, if only I had been allowed to bring my beloved Nouk with me. But dogs were not allowed in Finisterran parties.  
  
It wasn't long before someone approached me. She was a large, matronly woman, surrounded by a flock of dull-faced girls. She clapped her hands with excitement, and led her entourage in my direction.  
"If it isn't little princess Jenna!" She must have been wearing the most sickeningly sweet perfume ever to be created, it made my nose feel sticky, like it was coated in molasses. "Oh, you have grown so much! I'm the Comtesse du Provence, do you remember me? And these are my daughters, Anette, Paulette, Jeanette, Babette. Georgette, Colette, and Nicolette."  
  
The girls gave a non-committal sigh. Their beady eyes were all fixed on me, but not in a good way. I felt scrutinized, like I was some kind of curiosity.  
  
"It's actually, Lenna" Was all I managed to say.  
  
"Oh, isn't she delightful!" The huge woman cried out, and clapped her chubby hands once again. Her daughters just sighed again. "I remember you so well, my dear. You were just a diminutive thing, when you stood in the middle of the ballroom and exclaimed: 'Mom! This palace is so big, we could fit all of Bowerstone in here!'-In case you girls can't remember, Bowerstone is the capital of Albion-. So adorable!"  
  
The girls just sighed again.  
  
"But aren't you a lovely young lady now?  Sturdy and well-fed like a good country girl. Nothing like those rickety twigs from the city." She continued, and her daughters looked at me up and down. "Look at those little plump arms! I could just eat them whole!"  
  
I felt my arms tingle, suddenly incredibly self-conscious of how thick they were. I had always been strict and careful about my diet. I knew I suffered from the curse of our father's blood, and anything other than raw vegetables or fruit would make me fat. I weighted myself regularly almost every day, and kept rigorous track of my waist measurements. But... my arms? I had never really given much thought about them. I just assumed they were normal.  
  
"I... I... need to go find my brother." I excused myself and walked away as fast as my heels allowed.  
  
"I hope she did not think I was actually going to eat her!" I heard the comtesse saying. "You never know with the people of Albion!"  
  
The garden was huge and crowded. I had no problem losing that horrible woman and her even more horrible daughters.   
  
I saw you for the briefest of moments, you were lost in conversation with a group of people. I called out your name and waved my hands, you made no indication of having even heard me. Once again, I tried to get closer, but you all walked away without even noticing me. This was a nightmare, definitely not the way things were supposed to be. Back home, in Albion, it was always me surrounded by people, while you stood in a corner all by yourself.  
  
I gave up on chasing you. And decided to stay right where I was. My heels were killing me with all the sinking.   
  
I saw her coming from almost a mile away. Gabrielle, the only princess of Finisterre, who by marriage was bound to become the next Tzarina of Nivengard. She was wearing the most beautiful and unique gown I had ever seen. I didn't even know there was such a thing as mint-green silk, and it was embroidered with pink pearls and silver thread... How could she get so many pearls? Her flaming red hair was also adorned with pearls and other gemstones. The crowd parted to make way for her, like she was a goddess in the flesh.   
  
She was walking arm in arm with a blonde girl, one of the Nivengardian princesses. But, while Gabrielle was the very image of opulence and glamour, her companion was dressed in the most sober of dresses. She had blond hair pulled back into some sort of ponytail, and, from what I could see, she was wearing little to no make up.  
  
Their arms were all so perfect and skinny. I felt flabby just looking at them.  
  
Gabrielle and her companion stood up a few feet away from me. The both of them looked briefly in my direction, and then started arguing among themselves. I tilted my head, trying to overhear they conversation. They were speaking in Nivengardian, which was even more impossible for me to understand than Finisterran.   
  
The argument ended with Gabrielle dragging the blonde in my direction.  
  
"There she is, Princess Lilian of Albion." Gabrielle looked at me up and down and smiled. "Weren't you the one who said all of your kingdom could fit inside my father's palace?"  
  
"My name is Lenna." I looked down at the princess of Finisterre, and future tzarina of Nivengard. Her bright blue eyes were fixed on mine.  
  
I hadn't noticed it before -mainly because I had never been so close to her- but Gabrielle was a very tiny woman. Whatever, what she lacked in size, she made up for in meanness. I could have learned so much from her.  
  
"This is my sister-in-law, Nadya, princess of Nivengard." She gestured towards the blonde, and then towards me. "And, Nadya, this is... Logan's sister."  
  
The name, Nadya, turned of all the red lights inside my head. I had heard about her before, wasn't she the princess of Nivengard, who had all sorts of ill intentions towards you?  
  
"Nice to meet you, Lenna." The little hypocrite curtsied like she meant it. I narrowed my eyes, and was about to tell her just how glad I was to finally see her face. But Gabrielle kept on taking over the conversation.  
  
  
"Oh, but I just can't get enough of her dress! Didn't I tell you the peasant look was coming back in style, Nad? Look at her, with all those tiny flowers in her hair! She is just..." Gabrielle giggled, extended her perfectly manicured finger and tapped it on my nose. "... Boop!"  
  
"I... " Torn between the outrage of being 'booped', the intimidation Gabrielle's outstanding mint-green gown was causing on me, and finally seeing the face of the woman, who wanted to steal you away from me, the words escaped my mouth before I could even realize what I was saying. "Are you saying my arms look fat?!"  
  
"Beg your pardon?" Nadya tilted her head, almost like my dog, Nouk, did; but she wasn't nearly as cute.   
  
"Oh, just show a bit more of cleavage, and chances are no one will notice!" Gabrielle looked at me and sighed. "Big girls, like yourself, have the advantage of a generous bosom. What's left to us, poor gamine creatures?"  
  
I blinked, and opened my mouth to say something. However, it felt like the more I talked, the more chances I gave for this Finisterran crowd to tear me apart.   
  
"In any case, I need more wine." Gabrielle looked at me up and down. "It was nice talking to you, Logan's sister. And I am so glad I could be the one to introduce you to my dearest, Nadya. You might not know it, but she is going to be your sister-in-law, and queen of Albion, some day."  
  
"What?" I narrowed my eyes. One thing was for them to forget my name, call me fat, mock my dress, and even bring up the most embarrassing moment of my childhood in every conversation. But if these Finisterrans -and their Nivengardian friends- thought for just a second that I was going to allow some stupid, blonde, princess to try and take you away from me, they were clearly mistaken.  
  
Without another word, Gabrielle and Nadya turned to leave. But I was not about to let them walk away without speaking my mind.   
  
"Absolutely not!" I straightened myself, and stormed right after them. "You will not marry my..."  
  
It all happened in slow motion for me. My heel stuck into the grass once again, causing my ankle to bend in an awkward angle. Before I knew what was going on, I was falling face first on top of the dessert table.  
  
"...Logan!" I called out your name and, while my mouth was open, I believe I must have swallowed at least a spoonful of meringue from an enormous cake.  
  
All I could hear was the laughter of everyone around me. I just laid there, my face on the cake, unable to stand up and face the most humiliating moment of my life.   
  
"When I said 'help yourself to the deserts', I didn't mean it like that, Lana?" Philippe's voice cried out from among the crowd. Everyone just started laughing again.  
  
"Leave her alone, Philippe!" I heard your voice, firm and stern.   
  
You stepped out from the crowd, and picked me up into your arms. Our eyes met, and I couldn't fight back the tears anymore.   
  
"Don't worry, Lenna. It's not as bad as it looks." You held me tight, wiped the meringue and frosting off my face, and carried me away from the party and into a room in the palace.  
  
You didn't say another word, you just laid me on a couch, took off my shoes and started examining my ankle with an excessive amount of concentration. You were being kind, but I knew you far too well.  
  
"You don't have to keep a straight face, Logan." I conceded. "If it had been you, I would have definitely laughed."  
  
You placed a soft kiss on my lips, held me close to you, and I could feel your laughter against my body. I didn't know whether to smack you on the head or stroke your hair. How was I supposed to know it would be the last time I saw you laughing?  
  
"That princess from, Nivengard, Nadya..." I said bitterly, aching for you to confirm whether or not I was still your number one. "... She is very interested in you. Are you interested in her?"  
  
"Lenna..." You pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. "I've already told you I'm not interesting in pursuing a relationship... with anyone."  
  
"I don't like her, Logan." I crossed my arms and pouted my lips. "I don't like any of the people in this horrible place. I want to go home."  
  
"Well... " You grinned at me. "... at least you managed to be the talk of the party."


End file.
